All The Wounds That Are Ever Gonna Scar Me
by Laceration Gravityy
Summary: My Chemical romance with a hint of Frerard. Just a one-shot inspired by an interview of Gerard Way I watched and wrote about. Link to the interview is on my profile :D This just goes further with the fact that MCR is NOT "emo" or promote self-harm! R&R xx


**Hiya, here is a little one-sot that was inspired by a true event. I was watching an interview with Gerard Way and what he said truely inspired me. I had to write about it. so i did, and here it is. The link to the interview is on my profile. Sorry, it wasnt working when i tried to put it on the story itself. the part that this super short story is based on is around the middle but i encourage you to watch the whole thing. its very inspiring and could also inspire you. My Chemical Romance is not emo, a cult, and DO NOT promote self-harm in anyway!**

**DISCLAIMER: for the picky ones, i do not own MCR or the video. this story was simply inspired by them. The little frerard bit in there was not said to have acctually happened but i added that in for the hell of it. this is just fiction inspired by some fact. tis all.**

**Now, enough babbeling and on with the story! :D **

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><p>"It's for the bodies I claim and lose," I sang, my voice echoing in the stadium-like room. We were approximately half-way through the song <em>I Never Told You What I do For a Living. <em>

Sweat drenched my body, most noticeable in my hair, and adrenaline pumped through my veins as I jumped and danced on stage. The thrill, the excitement, the cheerful uproar of the crowd at a show; that's what helps me get up every early morning. That and the sweet smell coffee.

You know what's funny? We can do whatever the fuck we want on stage and no one will make anything of it. I could be drunk and stoned as hell while my pants fell off without me noticing, but they wouldn't care. If anything, they would like it. I know because it has happened before. Thank god I sobered up. I could even make sex noises. Either way, they still look up to me. They think I'm amazing. A god. I'm anything but a god.

I look around, taking quick glances at everyone: Bob, Ray, Mikey, and Frank. I gave them a reassuring smile just in case they needed it, and kept going with the song.

When I looked over to Frank, his jaw hung open as he bobbed his head in rhythm with the song, like he often does. It made me smile how into his guitar-playing he was. When he played, he put in all his effort, anyone could tell. Passion radiated of his body. This was what he was made to do.

Frank looked up from his guitar to meet my gaze. He smirked and he got that particular look in his eyes. I knew exactly what was about to happen. He strode across the stage to where I was standing. I paused my singing as I knew that was going to occur.

Frank took one hand off his guitar and, instead, took hold of the back of my neck. As he did this, I twined my fingers in his hair. Before I could even blink, our lips were crushed together. He jammed his tongue in my mouth, not bothering to ask for entrance beforehand. His warm tongue wrestled with mine, exploring my mouth wildly. I mimicked him, allowing our saliva to meld.

Thats just a little thing we do called "Frerard". When the adrenaline is at an all time high, it's what we do. It promotes gay rights and annoys the homophobes. Besides, the "fangirls" sure as hell don't seem to mind. And like I said, we can do almost anything we want up on stage and no one seems to mind.

So caught up in the moment, i completely forgot about where we were and the song I was supposed to sing. I pushed him away roughly, pulling at his hair. I saw him pout and it made me want to laugh but I suppressed it and continued on with the song. There were only a few lines left, anyways, and then it would be on to the next one.

_Give 'em Hell Kid _was next, I didn't bother to say anything inspiring between the two songs. I was too hooked on everything right now to talk.

"Oh baby, here comes the sound!" I started. That's when something, or someone, caught my eye.

It was a young girl, sixteen maybe. She had brutal lacerations up and down, all along her harms. She had black hair with lime green on the ends. I couldn't make out her specific features but I could tell she was pretty. Why the scars? What in this fucked up world would ever make her ever want to do such things.

It baffled and pained me to see someone like that. The scars were shiny, smooth-looking, and very noticeable. I so badly wanted to look away but my eyes wouldn't let me.

I kept going with the performance even though my thoughts were elsewhere. Kind of like when you read a book. You get lost in thoughts but you continue to read, then when your thoughts go back to the book, you have no idea what you just read and have to read it over again.

My body moved for me and pleased the audience while I scanned her, mostly her arms, with my eyes. I was perplexed by her.

Then a thought hit me, did I do this? Did she do this because of us? Influenced by us? Did some imp in the back of her mind lead her on to this because she thought that's what we encourage? Promote? Did she do this because she thought of us as "emo" and because she looks up to us, this is what it led to? has it gotten so bad to the point that people are harming themselves? Not just her but others too?

Guilt washed over me, flooding my conscience. I couldn't help it. I felt so at fault. This girl will bear those scars forever.

Meanwhile she just danced to the song, so lost in the beat along with everybody else. She seemed so fearless, so mesmerised by the music. As if she were to die right now, she would care less.

But… but what if this wasn't our entire fault? She probably just had heaps of problems before and did this to herself because of them. Instead of influencing her self-harm, we could have put an end to it. We could have helped her. We could have assisted her in getting over her issues and depression. That is what we really promote in our lyrics, after all.

I couldn't help but still feel a hint guilty. I will never know what happened. I will never know the story behind her scars. I will just have to settle on the positive thoughts.

I awaited the end of the show. I was tired and wasn't really in the mood for this anymore. But regardless, I will carry on, making the best of the rest of it. Then, when I get back on the tour bus, I might write a song about this. Or not. Maybe later. I might just lie on my bed and be engulfed by my thoughts and emotions while I fell into a deep sleep, much like I often do.

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><p><strong>Yay! told you it was short. please review, i would like to know someone read this and constructive critism is great. as you know, i would love to improve and have plenty of time to do so. :) <strong>

**xx**


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